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Book .DO L S 4 
Copyright i\°-_c_clQ-h-^ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

















































































































































































AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 


UNFINISHED AND UNREVISED. BEGUN FOR HIS 
CHILDREN AND FOUND AMONG SOME 
PAPERS WHICH CAME INTO MY 
HANDS AFTER HIS DEATH 


MARY C. D. WIGGLESWORTH 


BOSTON 


Geo. H. Ellis Co., Printers, 272 Congress St. 
1907 





IUBHARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies rtecjiviid 

MAR 26 i 308 

jotyrigm tnwv 

l Oct ^*1 

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Copyright, iqoy, 

By Mary C. D. Wigglesworth 



I WAS born in Boston on the 27th December 
1807 in Hanson St., at the corner of Friends 
St. It was there in a comfortable wooden house 
that my parents began their wedded life. I was 
their second child, and it was about 4 years 
after my birth that they removed to Portland 
St. I can remember nothing before the resi¬ 
dence in this latter St. But many fragments of 
my life there remain upon my memory. I re¬ 
member being once called by my father with the 
rest of the family to peep through the blinds at 
Elbridge Gerry who was passing, and the image 
of a man of medium height with a long nose is 
recalled. I remember too being at that early 
age troubled with headache and being carried 
home from school by the servant man on that 
account, and how I was subsequently put under 
the charge of a woman who kept another school 
next door to our house in Portland St. whose 
services were not of much value, but who petted 

[3] 


me as the child of better parentage than the other 
pupils. She sold groceries and some liquor in 
the front of her house and had her school in the 
rear. She used to make me stand on a stool and 
repeat “ Butterfly, pretty butterfly come rest on 
the flower that I hold in my hand” &c. About 
this time I was taught by my mother to repeat 
Campbell’s “Hohenlinden” and was stood on the 
third stair to declaim it to our visitors. I cannot 
remember learning to read, and so I suppose I 
must have been taught my letters and all that by 
my mother. 

I remember the gloom in the family caused by 
the disasters of the war of 1812, particularly the 
fight of the Chesapeake and Shannon. My 
father had become the trusted physician of Rev. 
Dr. Lathrop & his family, and my brother & 
I were put to school at the “Salem St. Academy” 
then kept by his son, John Lathrop, a man of 
learning & a poet. He gave little attention to 
us, we were so young. But he seemed to be very 
faithful to the older youths who were fitting for 
college. One day we walked (It was June 1, 
1813) hand in hand as usual to the school close 
by Christ Church Salem St. & when we arrived, 
[ 4 ] 


were informed there was no school that day for 
the Chesapeake had gone out to fight the Shannon. 
We did not know what it all meant but found out 
that the master had taken all the older boys to 
some point on the coast where they witnessed the 
disastrous engagement which caused the death of 
Capt. Lawrence & the sorrow of all the community. 
In this connexion I must recall the reception given 
to Com. Hull when he returned victorious over the 
Guerier in the frigate Constitution, Aug. 20 
1812 when I was 4 mos. short of 5 yrs. I went to 
my uncle’s store on Long Wharf and saw the hero 
land and the decorations of flags & triumphant 
arches and the hurra of the people & the thunder 
of the guns, and how they took him and lifted 
him into an open carriage and wheeled him up 
State St. all glad and wild with delight. 

But we had to move from our pleasant dwelling 
with its garden and nasturtium vines and all the 
bright surroundings. Our next abode (1813) was 
in Howard St (then called Southack’s Court) at 
the corner of Somerset St., a brick house still 

standing in 1877. It was a tall house with a very 

small yard & a shed on which I used to climb. 

I was put to school to Samuel Gilman H. C. 

[ 5 ] 


Expecting 
invasion by 
British all 
citizens enrolled 
in volunteer 
corps with 
distinctive 
cockades. 

Hulks in the 
harbor. 

Troops at 
So. Boston. 


1811 in Staniford St. for a while and quite enjoyed 
myself there though one of the smallest pupils. 
There were both boys and girls there; and some 
of the ways were rather odd. One of the punish¬ 
ments was to make the boys cling by hands to 
the door till they could hold no longer under 
fear of the ferule if they let go. The girls gave 
the master more trouble than the boys I think. 
But the master gave up the school and I was then 
consigned to the care of a Master Clark who 
removed the school to Poplar St. I got no good 
at this last school & after my brother entered the 
Latin School I fell into ways of truancy and was 
finally taken away and instructed by my mother 
at home. Many were the tears of repentance 
that moistened my “speller” & my “Cheever’s 
Accidence” when I thought in my solitary studies, 
of my mother’s tears shed when she discovered 
my bad wanderings. I think her tears were 
harder for me to bear than any other results of 
my unworthiness. I do not mean flagellation 
for my parents never struck me. This was after 
another removal to a small wooden house in the 
same Howard St. owned by Andrew Sigourney, 
which had a garden in front and a yard at the side 
[ 6 ] 


with a small stable. The war with England 
had crippled my father’s means by ruining a large 
part of his patients. Many were the expedients 
used for economy by my parents. Our dress was 
always very uncostly. Our table was abundant 
for nutriment but devoid of luxuries. We en¬ 
tertained scarcely any company. Father’s health 
at times suffered from haemoptysis. There were 
times when it seemed as if his death might leave us 
all dependent on my grandfather Sargent, who 
declared that in such a case he should take us all 
home and share with us his last crust. But this 
result was averted; my father outlived this 
grandfather. I entered the Latin School when 
I still wanted 4 mos. of being 9 yrs. old. This 
was in August 1816. It was rather by sufferance 
that I was admitted then. My father entered 
the same school at the age of 6^. His father 
had been the Head-Master of it. I was already 
well up in my Latin Grammar & in other youthful 
studies. I think I was considered reasonably 
smart for my age. So I was taken in by sufferance 
and on trial. There I remained till I entered 
college in 1823. The events of these early days 
which I remember most vividly, were, the dec- 
17 ] 


September 

Gale. 


Geo. Basil born 
15 Dec. 1814. 

Treaty of 
Vienna 

Dec. 24 1814. 
Battle 
N. Orleans 
Jan. 7. 1815. 


laration of peace with Gr. Britain in 1814-15 
& the reception of its news in Boston; the il¬ 
luminations consequent; the visit of President 
Munroe to our city; my grandfather Hunt’s 
departure for Lexington Ky.; the inauguration 
of the City Gov\ of Boston; my own advancement 
and honors in the school. 

I was looking out my chamber window on the 
of Feb. (?) 1815 before breakfast when 
I saw a man run up to a wood sawyer opposite 
and say something to him, whereupon the man 
addressed threw down his saw & horse, performed 
some wonderful antics, and both ran on crying 
out something which I could not catch. I thought 
of fire; but they were too happy for such an 
alarm. Presently others came running through 
the street shouting & all seemed glad and some 
had papers on their hats inscribed with something 
which I discovered was the word PEACE! and 
the shout of “peace, peace!” resounded all abroad. 
I and my brother J. J. set off to carry the glad 
tidings to our grandfather who lived in Hancock 
St. We could not run fast enough for our zeal. 
We shouted as all the rest of the world did “ peace! 
peace!” When we got to grandfather’s we could 
[ 8 ] 


not understand it but we found all the family in 
tears—tears of joy they were and many smiles 
came in between—so full of gratitude were they 
for the happy news. That day we had no school. 
All the town was astir with happiness. I went 
to my grandfather’s office in State St. corner of 
Congress St., the office of the Suffolk Insurance 
Comp., up one flight and there I witnessed the 
rejoicings on the most public street of the town. 
The street was quite full of people mostly mer¬ 
chants. I remember as I looked down on them 
most of the gentlemen were powdered and the 
circlet of white upon their coats is a prominent 
object in the photograph of the scene which re¬ 
mains in my mind’s retina. Impromptu proces¬ 
sions of all sorts followed each other constantly 
during the day and there were banners of all 
devices expressive of the sentiments of the various 
guilds which passed, and there were constant 
huzzas coming from the bystanders. I remember 
that during the day Hon. George Cabot, Prest. 
of Hartford convention came into the office, which 
had long been a sort of head quarters of the Fed¬ 
eralists, and I witnessed the greeting of Mr. C. 
& my grandfather who was the President of the 
[ 9 ] 


Comp. They took both each other’s hands and 
silently and tearfully shook up and down till they 
were tired and ceased from exhaustion. In the 
eve g . there were illuminations & fire works which 
I was allowed to see under the guidance & pro¬ 
tection of our man servant. Farther on in the 
season the news came of the ratification of the 
treaty by our government and this assurance of 
a lasting peace gave rise to other rejoicings. It 
was, I think, in Feb. that this confirmation of 
peoples’ happiness came. There was some dis¬ 
trust lest our Administration should reject the 
treaty and so their hopes deferred would be blasted 
still. But now there was the real fruition & the 
State House was illuminated from Cupola to 
Base and brilliant fire works made the night more 
showy to my eye than any day I had ever seen. 
I stood at the upper corner of Park St. and won¬ 
dered at it all. 

After I entered the Latin School, I think it was, 
President Monroe visited Boston. The public 
schools were all paraded upon the Common to be 
exhibited to the great man. The Old Latin School 
had the post of honor and each boy was provided 
with a badge consisting of an artificial rose half 

[io] 


white and half red as a token of the union under 
Monroe of the old partisans who had been divided 
under the two previous administrations. It was 
denominated the “Era of good feelings ,, and the 
union rose was significant of peace under the new 
regime. The President rode past us on horse¬ 
back with a costume of Revolutionary type. As 
I remember he had blue coat and buff trimmings 
& buff breeches, high boots & a three cornered 
close hat. He did not impress me as heroic in 
his appearance but mild and old-fashioned. He 
took notice of the show of children and bowed to 
us repeatedly. Our school’s appearance was the 
subject of much remark and the boys of the other 
schools jeered at our decorations. 

It was in the spring of 1816 (?) that my grand¬ 
father Hunt removed to the west. He had re¬ 
signed his place as head of the Latin School in 
1805, and had resided at Watertown since that 
time tutoring young men from the South who 
were fitting for college. His son Gibbes went 
west about the year 1813 or 14 and was pretty 
successful there as an editor & lawyer. The 
pupils fell off & the means of support were 
impaired and removal was a natural effect. His 

[11] 


second wife had some property which enabled 
them to purchase the means of travelling and 
they started off in their own vehicle, he at the 
age of 70, to traverse the weary road to the new 
State Kentucky. It was a sad termination to all 
his toils & disappointments. He gave up all 
the associations of his life and all the satisfactions 
of advanced civilization to go to a strange land 
on the frontier and to a state of society to which 
he was an entire stranger. His two sons by his 
first marriage were utterly unable to assist him 
in Mass, and there was not a cordial feeling 
between them & the second wife. It was the 
best move that could be made. I remember one 
summer morn g going to the extreme south end 
of Boston to see the departure. The old man 
was quite un-nerved at sight of his two grandsons. 
He took our hands, gazed at us with tears in his 
eyes, said nothing and mounted his vehicle where 
sat the remainder of his family, and they drove 
off with their own horses and I never saw him 
again. He arrived at Lexington that autumn, 
was soon after taken suddenly raving and died 

in a few hours. 1 he was too great upon 


his nerves. I saw his son Gibbes once afterwards 
when he visited Mass, in 1828 (?) on a short 
visit & I saw his youngest daughter Mrs. Withers 
when she visited my brother J. J. & myself in 
the year 185 & 185 and her daughter Mrs. 

Foster, visited the North in 184 But that is 
all the intercourse we have had with my grand¬ 
father’s second family. They were rank rebels 
in the civil war, especially those in So. Carolina. 

While Boston was a town I was always much 
interested in the politics of the day after I began 
to read the newspapers. I used to attend the 
great meetings in Faneuil Hall and was pleased 
with the debates and all the forms of the proceed¬ 
ings. At elections I often distributed votes for 
the Federal side. We boys used to spout pieces 
in school & were critics of each other and of 
public men. When therefore it was proposed to 
make a city of the old town we were all excite¬ 
ment about the questions which arose. We dis¬ 
cussed the expediency of the change and listened 
to all suggestions about the modes of procedure. 
We attended the caucuses and shouted our ap¬ 
proval of the orators whose side we favored. 
We were incipient statesmen as all such youths 

[13] 


Rev. Geo. H. 
Hunt visited 
Boston in 1857 
& 1877. Came 
from Tusca¬ 
loosa, Alabama, 
as delegate to 
an Episcopalian 
Convention. 


indeed ought to be. It was a triumph to us 
when the father of one of our number was chosen 
of the first mayor of the first city in our State. 
During the Convention of 1820 for the revision 
of the Constitution of Mass, after the separation 
of Maine, I used to attend the debates of that 
body and became much acquainted with the 
persons & the style of speaking of all the leading 
men of the State. I saw Ex-president John 
Adams who had his seat on the platform beside 
the President of the Convention, Ch. Just. Parker. 
I heard him speak on one or two occasions. I 
became familiar with the oratory of Webster, 
Story, Lincoln, Dearborn, Morton, Jackson, 
Varnham & a host of others & used to amuse 
my parents by imitations of them when we got 
together in the eve’s. 

All this was a kind of education aside the school 
studies. This brings me back to the reminiscences 
of the school. The head master was B. A. Gould, 
a man of good abilities and amiable disposition, 
who could be severe if provoked to it, but was 
enough of a man of the world to want to please 
the quality. He was ambitious for the school 
and determined to put it on the same level if 
[14] 


possible, with Eton & Harrow. Instigated also 
by the boasts of the English Consul, Manners, 
then resident in Boston, an Eton man, and by 
the assumption of superior scholarship on the 
part of an Englishman named Fisher who estab¬ 
lished a classical school in Boston and received 
the patronage of several rich men, Mr. Gould 
pushed his pupils forward to studies much in 
advance of the standard previously aimed at by 
that school. He made them read Horace and 
Homer & Juvenal; and led them to be very 
nice in their knowledge of the Latin prosody 
and to write Latin verses in imitation of the 
metres used by those authors, while he also re¬ 
quired much memoriter knowledge of the texts. 
At the same time he was not a perfectly accurate 
scholar according to the German standard of 
criticism and was often quite at fault in respect 
to syntactical interpretation. He required of us 
a familiarity with the edition of Adams’ Latin 
Grammar which he himself edited, and the lower 
classes were drilled to repeat page after page 
of the rules and examples. The result was that 
Fisher’s school was broken up & his pupils 
joined the Latin School. To make 

[15] 


us accurate 


in the prosodial niceties it was a habit with us 
to correct aloud any false quantity by whomso¬ 
ever committed; & he who was quickest was 
allowed to rank above all the others. The shout 
which sometimes went up in the school room 
was accordingly rather astonishing when a word 
was wrongly accented by a careless lad, and I 
find myself now inclined to speak out quick & 
loud when I hear any such fault committed. 
But Mr. Gould did not rest there: he caused prizes 
to be instituted for literary efforts in all the 
studies such as Latin & Eng. Poems, & Trans¬ 
lations; Latin & Eng. Compositions, Declama¬ 
tions &c. and yearly these prizes were distributed 
by the verdict of literary gentlemen called in to 
award them, & the best performances were pub¬ 
lished in a periodical called the Prize Book. 
This was a mighty engine in stimulating our 
ranks to extraordinary exertion. We were made 
to feel that the eye of the town was upon us and 
perhaps we were made prematurely self satisfied. 
Indeed I now disapprove all that way of hotbed 
education. But it served to bring the school 
into notice & to make it popular & thus it served 
the ends of its master. I was bred under this 
[16] 


influence. I received prizes for English & Latin 
compositions in verse & one of my Latin Poems 
on the subject of “Narcissus” was republished 
with commendation in an English Classical Jour¬ 
nal. I was praised quite enough for what I did 
and it has taken much after experience to rub 
off the conceit it engendered. But then I must 
acknowledge the benefits this treatment pro¬ 
duced. It certainly induced me to exert my 
faculties—to spread my wings and trust to them. 
It gave me courage when I sorely needed it. For 
I was not a very good scholar before I was reached 
by these methods. I think my talent was rather 
for the mathematics than for language. I remem¬ 
ber that in the math, studies I always took pre¬ 
cedence of the lad who was considered our leader 
in the classics, T. K. Davis. He had a better 
verbal memory than I; but as soon as demon¬ 
stration became necessary he dropt like a lead to 
the bottom, while I rose like a cork to the surface 
or rather I sprung like a bird up the air, and 
when original fancy was required I knew I was 
winged indeed while he could not raise him from 
the ground. But nevertheless when our final year 
came and the honor was to be accorded of cap- 

[17] 


tain of the school & gold medalist, Davis had 
the medal and received it in Faneuil Hall before 
all the city from the hands of Mayor Quincy. 
I do not think I felt the least envy at the time. 
My brother J. J. was the gold medalist that year 
at the English High School and was honored in 
the same manner as Davis was. My pleasure 
at that overshadowed other feelings and special 
commendation was accorded to me. 

Now I will venture to state here for my children 
what was related many years thereafter by Caleb 
Eddy one of the aldermen that year under Mr. 
Quincy. He said that a report came in from 
the schools in 1823 to the School Committee (and 
at time the Alderman & Mayor were ex-officio 
members of the School Com.) that my brother 
and I were each at the head of the two highest 
schools & about to receive the gold medals worth 
$50 each; that Mr. Quincy immediately objected 
that both medals should not go into the same 
family & used his influence to prevent my re¬ 
ceiving that to be awarded in the Latin School. 
Accordingly Davis was preferred to me, J. J. 
Dixwell being undoubtedly entitled to the other. 
I know not, & I care not, if the tale was true. 

[18] 


Mr. Eddy had no motive for misstatement. The 
deed was done, if at all, twelve years at least 
before the statement. Mr. Quincy was then out 
of office. I was in no position to gain or lose 
by the knowledge. I cared not whether it was 
true. Poor Davis, who was my classmate in 
college & always my very good friend, went crazy 
and died early; and what merit my life’s work 
has deserved has been wrought out after the prize 
of that day and its distinction was forgotten. I 
am inclined to think Davis deserved it. * * * My 
children will forgive my egotism. I have some¬ 
times thought that the position we two brothers 
then held was a remarkable one, when considered 
with reference to my grandfather Hunt’s position 
in 1805, when he was forced to resign his headship 
of that same Latin School, under the statement 
that his usefulness had become impaired. His 
two grandchildren were now in the advanced 
line of the city youths. I did not appreciate the 
situation then. 

At the same time we were a good deal flattered 
by our social advantages. We become acquainted 
with some of the first young ladies of the city. 
We were pupils in dancing of M. Malet, the most 
l>9] 


fashionable master of that day. He was a patient 
of my father and paid his bills by teaching us. 
He considered us his crack dancers and these 
circumstances introduced us among a very charm¬ 
ing coterie of young ladies, who invited us to 
their parties and made us most happy in their 
acquaintance. I never enjoyed society so much 
as in those dancing-school days, and we were 
very fortunate in this concurrence of circum¬ 
stances which led us into the best and most re¬ 
fined company of the city. 

Another patient of my father was Mr. Geo. 
Pollock then the best flute player in Boston. 
When I was about ten years old our next neighbor 
was named Hammatt, whose son Abraham used 
to play the flute and his music took the ear of my 
youthful fancy. I got hold of a sort of pipe or 
fife and used to try to make music upon it. One 
day, as I was probably hurting the feelings of 
the neighbors by my noise, Abraham Hammatt 
came to the fence dividing his garden from ours 
and offered me a small ebony flute which I awk¬ 
wardly accepted. My parents allowed me to 
retain it and I obtained also an Instruction Book 
whereby I learned the gamut and picked out a 
[20] 


few simple tunes. Afterwards I was allowed to 
have a larger and better flute and finally an eight 
keyed box-wood instrument. I was also put 
under the tuition of Pollock and had one quarter s 
teaching from him. He used to allow me to take 
the third part in trios which he played with some 
friend and me. Thus I learned to read music 
and to play the flute with tolerable skill. It was 
the source of much domestic pleasure and kept 
me, I think, from some influences which might 
have brought harm. 

In August 1823, 4 mos. before I was 16, my 
class was examined for admission to Harvard 
College. We chartered a coach or two to take 
us together to Cambridge early in the morn, and 
had no fears about the result of the day. I omit 
the details of the examination. We detected in 
some of our examiners deficiencies in scholarship 
which made us smile, and felt the true guiding 
ability of others which at once got our confidence 
& respect. It is enough for me today that we 
were all admitted without condition and were 
praised for our appearance. Our admission 
papers were delivered to us that evening after 
candle light and we returned uproarious to the 
[21] 


city, carrying our news to our teacher and to our 
anxious parents. 

It was about a month thereafter that I was 
conveyed to Cambridge one cool Saturday even¬ 
ing by my father in his chaise. My furniture 
had been previously carried out and placed in 
my room, No. 17 Hollis. My chum was to have 
been Ralph Emerson, brother of J. J.’s friend 
and teacher, G. B. Emerson. But his health did 
not allow his joining the class and I was therefore 
alone in the possession of said room. My wood- 
closet was filled with good hickory wood put in 
by father’s orders. Thus that autumnal evening 
I was left by my parent, with, no doubt, much 
solicitude; and for the first time I was expected 
to take entire care of myself. I felt forlorn. I 
trimmed my oil lamp and I got some logs into 
the fireplace; but how was I to light them ? 
There were no such things then as friction matches. 
I had a tinder box, which was the fashionable 
means of creating a flame. My fingers were 
numb. At the opposite room I heard laughing 
and many voices. I peeped across the hall and 
as one or another passed in or out I saw the pleas¬ 
ant light of a fire. I ventured to go with my 
[22] 


shovel to beg a few live coals to start my blaze 
and was received most cordially by my classmates 
Sweetser and Wood and several of their acquaint¬ 
ances from Newburyport. They begged me to 
come in and enjoy the fire and room and I could 
not resist. That was the beginning of a friend¬ 
ship which has since always been cherished by 
me. Their encouragement and help enabled me 
to get over those first days of lonesome homesick¬ 
ness and to launch upon the new waves I was to 
swim in for the next four years. I soon found 
my bearings and became interested in all my 
pursuits. People treated me very civilly, both 
students and government. My studies were 
mostly within my grasp and the year went by 
with little friction. My music attracted the 
members of the Pierian Sodality whose meetings 
I used to hover round to hear them play; and 
before the year was out I was invited to become 
a member, which was an honor I did not aspire 
to and was much surprised at. It led me to 
some scenes and usages which seemed to me then 
the very verge of propriety. The first time I 
went with them to a distant town by coach to 
serenade in the midnight hours and got back as 

[23] 


the “ Bright rosy morning peeped over the hills.” 
I felt guilty many days and constrained to cover 
the fact by silence. It was a consequence of 
membership which I had not counted on. But 
the night music was sweet to remember and the 
entertainments we received from gentlemen whose 
daughters we complimented were in themselves 
not far from delightful. Time cured my fresh¬ 
ness and I hardened into a sophomore. During 
the last half of the Freshman year I was joined 
as a room-mate by C. C. Felton, then a very 
rustic lad, who was afterward President of Har¬ 
vard College & the very good friend of my man¬ 
hood. All the remaining years in college I roomed 
with James Lloyd English. Felton made a part¬ 
nership with Edmund L. Cushing, who was at 
one time thereafter in 1874 Chief Justice of New 
Hampshire. 

I cannot remember many things worth record¬ 
ing in our Soph. year. It was in 1824, I think, 
that I witnessed the entrance into Boston of 
Lafayette, the most like a Roman triumph of 
anything I ever saw. It was a time of wild ex¬ 
citement. People left the sidewalks to grasp the 
old hero by the hand and as they dragged his 
[24] 


coach one wild roar of grateful plaudits accom¬ 
panied his vehicle from the city borders to the 
State House, where the Governor & the Legis¬ 
lature received him with acclamations and bless¬ 
ings. I saw him recognize on a verandah in 
Park St. some of his old acquaintances and I 
witnessed their mutual joy at meeting. I even 
pressed in to get a shake of his honored hand as 
he passed up the steps to the Capitol. I was 
present when he was subsequently received by 
Prest. Kirkland at Harvard and I listened to the 
uplifting eloquence with which Edward Everett 
addressed him at the close of his Phi Beta Kappa 
oration that year. I was also present at the 
laying of the corner stone of the Bunker Hill 
Monument, and heard Webster's fine oration 
thereat. 

At the last term of my junior year I was elected 
a member of the Phi Beta Kappa Society, one of the 
first eight scholars of my class, and no honor I 
ever received was so grateful to me as that. I acted 
as Marshall at their celebration in 1826 and then 
first was present at their annual dinner. I never 
conceived any delight equal to that I enjoyed on 
that occasion. The sight of so many distin- 

[25] 


guished men joining in festive relaxation & 
the interchange of repartee and compliment, with 
songs and speeches, wit and poesy, was to my 
mind the greatest reward I could receive for 
hard study or the outlay of talent. That junior 
year Dr Follen came to Cambridge and the 
gymnasium was first organized. A certain num¬ 
ber of the students were selected to be trained 
by Dr. F. with apparatus placed in one of the 
lower rooms of University Hall. I was one of 
them. I liked the exercise and was praised for 
my cleverness in the evolutions. After we had 
been instructed some weeks a larger quantity of 
apparatus was erected upon the Delta where now 
stands the Memorial Hall, and we were required 
to teach the other members of the college the 
tricks we had been taught. This was a strong 
effort in favor of physical training then first 
introduced into Harvard. It had a temporary 
run of popularity. When in the summer evening 
all college was collected in the field in their organ¬ 
ized squads going through the prescribed course 
of gymnastics, it was a lively scene, especially 
when Boston and its vicinity rode out to see what 
was going on and surrounded the Delta with 
[26] 


carriages filled with ladies and other friends of the 
students. We were much observed. By and by 
it was determined to make the Harvard Wash¬ 
ington Corps, the college Military Company, a 
part of the gymnasium and all students were 
enrolled as members and submitted to drill. I 
had become an officer of that corps and was put 
in position of drill officer of the whole. We 
were officered as a Battalion and I had command 
of the 1st Company. This gave me some dis¬ 
tinction and engendered a little military taste. 
We officers were instructed by past officers of 
the Corps, especially by S. K. Lothrop, who was 
a fine soldier; and altho’ he became a clergyman 
and a S.T.D., never lost the soldierly bearing 
and the interest in military affairs which he then 
had. 

I had also assignments of parts at the Exhibi¬ 
tions of the college. In my Junior year I had 
an English translation from the Latin and I 
selected a passage from Milton’s “ Defence of the 
English People.” I suppose it looked plucky 
for one of my name to step forward in defence 
of the cause of my ancester (J. D.) but it was 
received well and rather gained me a peg or two. 

[27] 


At my Senior Exhibition I had a Dissertation (I 
believe) and have forgotten now the precise sub¬ 
ject. It was also well received, and one point 
I made quite brought down the house in applause. 
I also had a mathematical part at one of the Ex¬ 
hibitions. These mathematical parts were as¬ 
signed to those who were clever in that department, 
and were written out on large rolls of paper with 
ornamented headings, and carried up in proces¬ 
sion at the Exhibition and delivered to the Chair¬ 
man of the Overseers who presided, and then 
were displayed in the Library. I found at first 
great difficulty in coping with Logic and Meta¬ 
physics. It was from want of maturity. I read 
the lessons over and over and tried to understand 
them; but no impression was left on my mind. 
I was in despair. I repeated the effort and wept 
over my tasks. But gradually the power came 
and at last I became even fond of such enquiries. 
I cannot but think that if I had then been allowed 
an option to elect other studies, I should have 
turned my back on philosophy and lost the chance 
of getting the advantage of its training powers. 
My remembrance of my own education does not 
make me favorable to the modern ideas of elective 
[28] 


studies for young men, before they take hold on 
professional researches. 

My relations to my classmates may be perceived 
by the fact that I was a member of every college 
society except the chemical club called the Davy 
Society. I presume, therefore, that I was popu¬ 
lar with all the various factions. My Commence¬ 
ment part ranked 4th or 5th and was the Salutatory 
Oration in Latin . It was delivered on 29th Aug. 
1827. Prest. Kirkland had become paralyzed. 
Dr. Henry Ware presided. The community was 
agitated with rumors of slights put on Kirkland 
by the Corporation, and his popularity called 
forth expressions of sympathy with him and of 
dislike for others, which added to the interest of 
the exercises, but were unjust in fact. I allude 
to the circumstances only as a part of the history. 
It was expected that Prest. J. Q. Adams would 
be present that day, and I prepared an address 
to him. But Harvard did not .then feel quite 
friendly to Adams and he had no invitation to 
come. Levi Lincoln was the Governor of Massa¬ 
chusetts then and ex-officio President of the Over¬ 
seers. He was there and T. L. Winthrop was the 
Lieutenant Governor. I think my performance 
[29] 


was not as good as had been expected. I did not 
prepare it well. The night before the Commence¬ 
ment occurred the most remarkable Aurora 
Borealis which had been seen since I was born, 
although many have since occurred quite as fine, 
or more so. There was a great excitement and all 
college was out and watching it till very late. I 
had intended to perfect my learning of my part 
at that time. So I did not get as much credit as 
I ought to have deserved. My father made 
exertion to have a modest repast in my room. 
We had cake and sandwiches and plenty of good 
Madeira. No one was particularly invited but 
such as came to call were treated with hospitality. 
I was not sufficiently grateful to him for this 
effort, and have always regretted that I did not 
feel and show more thankfulness. I had not a 
proper perception of the relations I bore to him 
and property. I had been influenced unknow¬ 
ingly by the rich men’s sons about me and hank¬ 
ered after greater style and profuser expenditure. 

Immediately after graduation I sought and 
obtained the place of usher in the English High 
School in Boston under the direction of S. P. 
Miles. I was recommended in full terms by the 
[30] 


members of the College Faculty, and although I 
then wanted 4 mos. of being 20 years old I entered 
on my new work with great zeal and perfect con¬ 
fidence. Mr. Miles gave me a portion of the 
youngest class to teach and I am satisfied that I 
gained their good will, taught them well what I 
undertook to teach, and laid a good foundation 
for further advancement. In Sept. 1876 I met 
in Paris one of those boys and had a very pleasant 
reunion with him. His name is Ellison and he 
has been an engineer in high rank in the service 
of the Emperor of Brazil. 

[Add here the interview with W. H. Hathorne, 
in 1887, one those first pupils, who came with 
a letter from another of the class, Mr. C. Tucker, 
of Indianapolis, enclosing the original letter I wrote 
in 1828 to my pupils on receiving a copy of Mrs. 
Hemans’ poems as a parting gift. I immediately 
produced the book from my library and showed 
Mr. Hathorne the original presentation letter 
written by Mr. Tucker. The sixty years which 
had intervened had not impaired the copy, or 
my regard for that first class of my training.] 

I began the next year in the same place, but the 
office of Submaster in the Public Latin School 
[31] 


became vacant by the resignation of S. P. Parker 
and as the salary was greater than what I was 
receiving I applied for the place, through Mr. 
Leverett the Head-master of that school, and 
obtained it over the heads of two of the ushers 
who were my seniors. I spent the rest of that 
year and the following in the office of Submaster 
of the P. L. S. I had charge particularly of the 
mathematics and other English studies. But 
Leverett was sick much of the time, particularly 
in the 1st year, and I had to act as head of the 
school, which was rather trying owing to my 
youth and the prestige attending my senior offi¬ 
cer’s administration, as well as the relation I bore 
to the ushers. My younger brother, George, was 
a pupil in the school, and left it to enter college 
in 1829. During the last year, 1829-30, I under¬ 
took to teach him between schools mathematics 
and other things. I was willing to help him but 
I needed the time for recreation. He was exam¬ 
ined for admission to Harvard and was judged 
perfectly fitted to enter. He never joined the 
college class but entered the Counting-house of 
D. C. Bacon. 

My elder brother, John James, was educated 
[32] 


for a merchant by Thomas Wigglesworth, and in 
1827 the year of my graduation, he went his first 
voyage to Calcutta, as clerk to Capt. Augustine 
Heard. He continued to pursue that kind of 
life by various successive voyages as supercargo. 

In 1830 I delivered the Latin Valedictory 
Master’s Oration on the occasion of our receiving 
the degrees of A.M., and I resigned the place in 
the school and entered my name as student at 
Law in the office of C. G. Loring and Charles 
Jackson. Several of my classmates and friends 
were fellow students there, or were in neighboring 
offices or had set up for themselves as attorneys. 
I will mention T. K. Davis, Arnold Welles, R. C. 
Winthrop, Edmund Quincy, Wm. Gray, Ed. D. 
Sohier, C. C. Paine, C. C. Emerson, G. S. Hillard, 
F. C. Loring. 

The office I studied in was one in which much 
business was transacted, extended over various 
departments of the law. Judge Jackson was 
consulted by other lawyers on grave questions too 
deep for the contemplation of youngsters. He was 
quite ready to have us approach him and ask 
questions on our studies; but he was an old man, 
very grave and somewhat forbidding in his ex- 

[33] 


terior and only appeared at the office in the middle 
of the day for a short time. We seldom got any 
instruction from him. The boys called him “The 
Judge.” “The Counsellor” was Charles G. 
Loring. He was in the midst of things, a com¬ 
mercial lawyer, much sought as an advocate and 
an adviser. He attended courts and argued cases 
and his name was on the docket in all the principal 
cases tried for several years. He was a profound 
student, a successful practitioner, a much hack¬ 
neyed horse of all work. He was always sanguine 
about the side of the case he had espoused, and 
conscientiously labored to show it to be right. He 
had many very interesting insurance cases. He 
had much business in making assignments of 
property for debtors about to fail. 

Into this mass of rather advanced business we 
students were projected to help as we were wanted 
and to learn as we could. Loring could give very 
little aid to us in our studies. He advised us what 
to read and when we had a point to be explained 
he was patient to hear and quick to elucidate. 
But we had not the organized instruction calcu¬ 
lated to make lawyers. We worked as we could 
in the great mass of legal science, gnawing away 
[34] 


sometimes in one direction and sometimes in 
another. We were inclined to go deep. We read 
Coke Littleton and we studied Saunders Pleadings 
with constant reference to the Year Books. We 
delighted in Stephens on Pleading, and we knew 
a good deal about Insurance Law, studying ships, 
then construction, rigging and then navigation. 
But we had no knowledge of practice in the courts. 
We could scarcely make out a writ. We had but 
little skill in drawing legal documents. Some¬ 
times we were up all night writing out several 
parts of assignments when a great failure was 
about to explode upon the city. Sometimes (a 
few) we were employed in looking up the titles to 
real estate. F. C. Loring was admitted to the bar 
in 1831, and became a partner in the firm and he 
went by the name of “The Attorney.” There 
was a chief clerk named Stanwood. Thus the 
firm seemed to include all that a young man could 
absorb from in the way of practical education. But 
there was needed a method. It would have been 
better for me to join the Law School in Cambridge. 
But here economy ruled. I could not afford to do 
otherwise than as I did. All this time I was living 
at my fathers house. But in due time I was ad- 
[35] 


mitted to the Bar in 1833 on the recommendation 
of C. G. Loring and his certificate of competency. 
There was no examination. Our certificates were 
read to the court, and a counsellor of the court 
moved our admission, and the court swore us in as 
attorneys in all the courts of the Commonwealth. 
Samuel Hoar moved my admission. I took an 
office in the same building where I had read law, 
No. 39 Court St. I bought some books and some 
necessary furniture, and set up my shingle. I 
need hardly say that I had no practice. Rarely a 
chance straggler came in and sought my aid. But 
I did not make enough to pay for my office rent. 
I had time to study. Sometimes I took a pupil to 
teach the classics. I was somewhat in society of 
the best sort in Boston. But those years seem to 
my retrospect dreary and unprofitable in all 
ways. 

Among my few chances for practice was a suit 
I brought against the City of Boston in behalf of 
my father. It was based on a statute which gave 
persons aggrieved double damages for injury 
caused by the roads being out of repair or any wise 
obstructed so to make them unsafe for travel. My 
father had an urgent call to visit a woman at the 
[36] 


South End on a dark, drizzling evening, and pro¬ 
ceeded up Tremont St. in his gig accompanied by 
his servant. When they neared the corner of 
Hollis St. the horse suddenly sheered, and the 
chaise immediately came in contact with what 
proved to be a pile of bricks occupying one half 
of the road. The chaise was shattered and its 
occupants let down on the ground, and altho , not 
personally injured, with some difficulty extricated 
themselves from the wreck. There was no lamp 
lighted in the street near, and no signal lamp was 
put upon the obstructions. It cost him some $80 
to repair his vehicle. Under the circumstances I 
deemed it best to sue for the double damages ac¬ 
corded by the statute. I consulted Judge Jack- 
son and C. G. Loring and they advised me to 
proceed. The case was brought in the Court of 
Com. Pleas and came to trial. Mr. John Picker¬ 
ing was the city advocate, and there was no dispute 
about the facts, so the Judge (Ward) advised that 
it should be carried up to the Supreme Court and 
the Law settled by that tribunal as applied to the 
case. That was accordingly done and came before 
the court as an agreed statement of facts. It was 
urged that the Aldermen as Commissioners of 
[37] 


Highways had the right to discontinue a road if 
they chose—that as authorized they could decide 
when there was a necessity for occupying part of 
the road with building materials and if such were 
placed there by permission of the city officers 
there was no appeal. But we urged that if the 
city decided to obstruct the road in any case or 
under any pretext, or licensed such obstruction, 
they were bound under the law to protect the 
passengers by every means possible, and in this 
case ought to have placed signals of danger in the 
road and to have kept the street so illuminated as 
to show the obstructions. It was just because the 
city had assumed the responsibility and had failed 
in their duty that we claimed damages of them. 
I considered our case very strong. Mr. C. G. 
Loring was kind enough to make the closing 
argument for me and I expected to gain some 
credit as well as a little money. 

But when after some delay, the judgment of the 
Supreme Court was pronounced by Judge Morton, 
it was against us. The court said that the ob¬ 
structions were placed there by the authority of 
the City Officers, and their decision was final on 
the expediency of their being so placed. They 
[38] 


said nothing about the dangerous condition of the 
road so obstructed without lights or signals. 

This case was never reported by the court, and 
is not to be found in the books. I confess that I 
do not now, more than fifty years after that de¬ 
cision, believe it to be law or reason. That case 
was my only case in the Supreme Court, and its 
result tended to weaken my regard for the pro¬ 
fession I had espoused. 

In 1834 my father died and a greater gloom settled 
down upon me. J. J. was at home then and was 
a great stay and defence to us all. I had to settle 
my father’s estate. His affairs were not very 
prosperous. His books were in a confused state. 
Charges were made to people who could not, and 
some who would not pay, and the amount realized 
was small. But the assets paid the claims and 
left a small balance which we put to the credit of 
my mother. The homestead was retained and 
mother and I lived on there very economically , with 
one servant. J. J. and George went to Calcutta 
again. So we continued till 1836, the autumn, 
when a committee consisting of B. A. Gould, my 
old teacher, and S. K. Lothrop my pastor of the 
Brattle Square church, called on me and informed 

[39] 


me that I was proposed as the Head Master of the 
Public Latin School. Mr. Dillaway had resigned, 
Mr. Leverett had been re-elected but had sud¬ 
denly died, and a successor was sought; and they 
wanted me to be a candidate. I was surprised. 
I had not sought the place. I doubted my qualifi¬ 
cations. Rut they guaranteed my election and 
that I should have the large salary of $2,500. I 
promised to consider it; and the result was my 
acceptance of the offer. I was elected with great 
unanimity, and thus I entered on a mode of life 
which I had not dreamed of a week before. I was 
elected Principal or Head master of the Public 
Latin School on Nov. 8, 1836, and was inducted 
to office Dec. . I knew I took on me a severe 
task and I left open a road of retreat. I retained 
all my law apparatus so as to fall back upon that, 
if I did not succeed. 

One of the first difficulties I encountered was 
the selection of my cabinet , so to speak, my as¬ 
sistant teachers. The school had run down. 
There was bad government and no respect for the 
existing teachers. I think there was want of 
harmony among the teachers and that the boys 
had been taught by the subordinates disrespect 
l4°] 


for the head. * * * There was a bad set of fellows 
in the school. One of the first things which oc¬ 
curred after my election was a call from a parent 
of one of the pupils for the purpose of remon¬ 
strating against the appointment under me of F. 
Gardner, detailing a conflict which had occurred 
between the father and that teacher, in which they 
came to blows. It was averred that G. was 
coarse & passionate & unfit for the place. I had 
an interview with G. in which he desired to be 
sub-master & gave me such an impression that I 
yielded to the idea that it would be well to make 
use of his knowledge of the progress & dispositions 
of the pupils to guide me in my first steps in office. 
I believed him to be a good scholar & I thought 
that the parent alluded to was a coarse man him¬ 
self & by his own showing was much to blame. * * * 

I remained Head Master of that school till 1851. 

I had an arduous task. In part my labor was 
expended on myself in filling up my deficiencies 
& preparing myself for its duties. I had to find 
that my own education was deficient. Philology 
had much progress of which I was unaware. My 
education was somewhat superficial. German 
scholarship had to be reached after & overtaken. 
[41] 


I felt that conscience would not be quieted by the 
same measure of teaching which was measured to 
me. Particularly I found that the Greek tongue 
had not been taught me aright. I had studied it 
through the Latin. All our dictionaries were 
Greeko-Latin. Our grammars were quite defec¬ 
tive. We were taught to fit the Latin Syntax & 
Latin Prosody to Greek words and sentences. 
We accented Greek according to Latin rules. 
Now another set of tools had to be used. My 
pupils were furnished with Greek-English Lexi¬ 
cons. New grammars came into use. I had to 
learn to teach the Greek roots & their combina¬ 
tions & thus to bring a new solvent to bear on the 
meaning of the texts we worked on. I introduced 
into our teaching the true accentuation of the Greek 
and a new pronunciation such as was not before 
used at Harvard or elsewhere. My pupils were 
the first made to write Greek with the true accent 
marks & to comprehend them. Harvard fol¬ 
lowed in my track & required a knowledge of 
accents as a part of the elementary preparation 
necessary for admission. My teacher at college 
did not know anything of this as is shown by an 
edition of the Glocester Greek Grammar pub- 
[42] 


lished by Dr. Popkin in which all accent marks 
were excluded & declared to be unnecessary 
pedantry. Besides this, the college demanded 
yearly greater amount of knowledge both in 
breadth & depth. So that my wits were kept 
strained to meet the requirements and to prepare 
scholars who should be quite fitted in the sphere 
of their proper studies. This gave me hard labor. 
But I had also much anxiety & at times anguish 
in maintaining the discipline of the school. I 
wished for the love of my pupils but I made that 
secondary to my determination to preserve the 
moral atmosphere pure & to train them to con¬ 
scientious adherence to duty. I was sometimes 
called a “ martinet ” but I believed that an un¬ 
disciplined school like an undisciplined army was 
a disorganized mob. So I insisted on rule. “ Aut 
disce , aut discede,” I proclaimed and enforced. 
But I had great sympathy with those who tried 
and could not bring much to pass & I spent hours 
in private efforts to bridge over their deficiency. 
I add that I had little confidence in the benefit of 
corporal punishment & avoided it, except in clear 
cases of moral delinquency. I abandoned it en¬ 
tirely the last part of my service in the Latin 
[43] 


School & never resumed it. Sometimes, doubt¬ 
less, my nervous system gave way and I had head¬ 
aches which demanded great allowances on the 
part of others. This was an hereditary defect 
which went back to my earliest years. On the 
whole, my self-judgment as I look back decides 
that I did a vast deal of hard work & conscientious, 
and produced a reasonable share of fruit in good 
scholars. I never had a pupil (except one lad who 
was scared at the examination & was admitted on 
a revised examination after the vacation) re¬ 
jected on application for admission to Harvard 
or any other college. The major part of those I 
offered for admission were accepted without con¬ 
dition in all the branches. If the exhibitions of 
the school did not flash as sparklingly as did Mr. 
Gould’s, it was in part owing to the fact that the 
college recommended that books should not be 
studied at school which belonged to the college 
curriculum. Horace & Juvenal, Homer & 
Xenophon were therefore no longer open for the 
showy exhibitions of the boys. But the Faculty 
of the college commended the preparation of my 
pupils and the standard of the school in their esti¬ 
mation was never higher. I have taken from the 
[44] 


Triennial Catalogue of Harvard a list of those who 
graduated there & who were educated at the Bos¬ 
ton School during my administration. As I look 
over this list and remember those men in their 
boyhood, my heart beats with the kindest emo¬ 
tions on recalling their youth & the incidents of 
their pupilage. Some of their schoolmates' names 
do not appear on the list of graduates. Alas, for 
those who fell by the wayside overcome either by 
sickness or worse ill. 

In 1842 the city authorities cut down salaries & 
my own was reduced to $2000. It was a clear 
breach of contract. But my growing family 
restrained me & I could not then return to the 
law. I did not resign. The old salary was 
restored in 1846. But in 1851 a law was passed 
both chambers of the City Council requiring all 
those who received salaries from the city to reside 
within its precincts. This I was not inclined to 
do. And I resigned. After my determination 
was made known, the School Committee, espe¬ 
cially that part of it which superintended my school, 
begged me to withdraw the resignation & promised 
to procure for me exemption from the rule. Their 
words were most complimentary and I was much 
[45] 


flattered. But already my advertisements were in 
circulation proposing to open a private school of 
the like character as the P. L. S. and I had en¬ 
gaged to teach several who had applied. I could 
not recede. I adhered to my determination and 
thus my connection was severed which had so 
many years continued. I will state here for my 
children, that the yearly reports of the character 
and standing of my school, each year I was at its 
head, were of the best. It was uniformly stated 
to be in the most flourishing condition & I was 
yearly re-elected headmaster generally without op¬ 
position. I leave among my papers the documents 
relating to my resignation & the votes of the S. C. 
relative thereto. But in following out my official 
life I have outrun chronology and must turn back. 
My father died in 1834, I became Headmaster in 
1836 & in 1839 I became engaged & was married 
to Miss Mary Ingersoll Bowditch, eldest daughter 
of Nath. Bowditch LLD. I had been attracted to 
her some time before. Her father died in 1838 & 

I used to meet her frequently on our walks at the 
South end of Boston. I saw her also at her home 
where I used to go to practise music with Mrs. 
H. I. Bowditch, then recently married, a profi- 
[46] 


cient in playing both the piano & the harp. Thus 
my music was a benefit again. I was not left long 
to discover that there was a mutual attachment & 
on the 7th of March 1839 she accepted my offer & 
I began the long career of affection which has so 
solaced & gilded my whole subsequent life. On 
the 4th of June 1839 we were married in her 
father's library, in what was then No. 8 Otis 
Place. The house is gone: the site of it is now 
a public street. It stood between Summer St. & 
Franklin, a retired, quiet, agreeable spot amid 
other genteel residences. We have photographs 
of the exterior & of the library. There is nothing 
there about now but warehouses. We had a 
famous reception after the wedding, at which a 
great many genteel & distinguished people were 
present, and later in the day went upon our 
wedding tour which led us by Springfield along 
the Connecticut River up as far as Winsor, Vt., 
where we visited Mary's Grandfather, Mr. Jona¬ 
than Ingersoll & his third wife. We sent a slice 
of the cake to every pupil of the school with our 
kind wishes. We were gone a week & then I 
resumed my school & we went to reside with 
mother & J. J. in my old home. That summer 
[47] 


we boarded at Dorchester at the home of Mrs. 
Saunders & Miss Beech & came to Allston St. in 
the autumn. We had a housekeeper to look after 
the interests of all and to avoid my wife's assuming 
the control of things in a home so constituted. 
Those were happy days. But it became expedient 
at last that we should have an independent home. 
Mother & J. J. behaved most kindly in relation 
to this question. We stayed with them till 1842. 
In Dec. 12 1840 our first born child came, a dear 
little girl who was named Fanny Bowditch. The 
summer vacation of 1840 was spent at Sharon. 
The summer of 1841 was at Dorchester again at 
the same place & that of 1842 at Dorchester at 
another place, Mr. Moselay’s, & from there we 
went to Cambridge & began in September our in¬ 
dependent housekeeping in a house in Mason St., 
then newly made out of the barn on the estate of 
Aaron Hill. This house we occupied for six 
years, and two other girls, Esther Sargent & 
Susan Hunt were born there, as was our only boy, 
John. We enjoyed life here very much. People 
in Cambridge took us at once into their society. 
Prest. Quincy was at the head of the college. All 
the faculty were my friends & intimates. Our 
[48] 


company was sought & our house was the resort 
of the best people, old & young, that the city 
afforded. I became a member of the Scientific 
Club and enjoyed their meetings most intensely. 
We joined the “Book Club, ,, then an old institu¬ 
tion, whose monthly social gatherings were almost 
the sole parties among our acquaintances. Thus 
we had the best of Cambridge life and that com¬ 
prised more scientific & literary ability than could 
be found elsewhere. Every morning the omnibus 
was driven up by Morse, the old coachman, to my 
door and I stepped in & was landed in Boston 
near my school. And when I came out of town 
the Bus carried me again to my door. But I 
more frequently walked out of town. A man 
came in the morning before light in the winter & 
knocked at our door & I threw the door key out 
to him whereby he entered & made our fires in 
furnace & bath room. And so we got our work 
done without the bore of more servants than the 
cook & one woman who minded the bairns. It 
was a happy & unostentatious life. 

In 1847 I received a present from my two 
brothers of a sufficient amount of money to pur¬ 
chase a lot of land & to build thereon a house. It 

[49I 


was a princely gift and made in a manner which 
showed the best hearts imaginable. They had 
both been successful in mercantile life and made 
money, they said, easily, while I had toiled hard & 
had laid up but little. By the way, I would here 
state that all my previous savings amounting to 
$5000 were made over at my marriage to J. J. D. & 
J. I. Bowditch in trust for the benefit of my intended 
wife. But I had not accumulated much beyond 
that. This present was, therefore, most accept¬ 
able. We selected a lot of land near the Obser¬ 
vatory in Garden St. & purchased it of the College 
at the rate of cts. a sq. foot. On this my present 
house was erected. It was begun on Thanks¬ 
giving Day in 1847 an< ^ was finished the summer 
following. Our son John was born March 21 
1848 and in Sept, following we took possession of 
our new dominion & began to enjoy the planting 
of trees & laying out of our garden. Here we 
have lived ever since. Two other girls named 
Arria Sargent & Mary Catherine completed our 
family, Arria born 1850 & Mary 1855. 

My Private Latin School went into operation in 
October 1851. My list of pupils to the number of 
30 was soon filled. I associated with me as 
[50] 


assistant a former pupil who had just graduated, 
Henry W. Haynes. I took a house No. 2 Boylston 
Place and fitted up the drawing rooms, which had 
folding doors, with the necessary apparatus of 
desks and blackboards &c. All my pupils were 
seated in my room. Mr. Haynes occupied one of 
the chambers and had classes sent to him in 
rotation as I saw to be expedient so as to give me 
a constant knowledge of their progress. Pupils 
came from other private schools & from the Public 
Latin School and some came from distant places. 
My income was sufficient to pay rent, salaries, fuel & 
all expenses and leave me a much larger sum than 
my previous salary had been, while my intercourse 
with my pupils was more agreeable than it had 
ever been before. Altogether the step proved a 
great advance and my happiness was greatly in¬ 
creased. My list of applicants for admission to 
my ranks became quite large and I was, for most 
of the time I continued that school, able to select 
those whom I chose to have come into my ranks, 
avoiding always as far as my knowledge of them 
permitted, taking those who had been uncomfortable 
members of other schools or who sought to come to 
me with the idea of having their own way as to 


rules or as to relaxing their required work. I 
required strict discipline and good work from all. 
And I had many splendid scholars among my 
pupils. After two years I was enabled by the aid 
of my most kind & efficient helper Brother John 
James, to build a schoolhouse for myself in the 
same court where I was then a tenant. He 
bought all the land on the side of Boylston Place 
opposite my school. It had been the garden of 
Giles Lodge. This he laid out in lots suitable for 
dwellings and one of them he sold to me & nego¬ 
tiated the building of a structure according to my 
plans fitted in every way for my wants and for the 
then firmly established seminary. It was a most 
brotherly act of kindness and only served once 
more to show how loving and disinterested he al¬ 
ways was towards me. The enterprise was one 
which caused him much thought & trouble. But he 
derived the purest satisfaction in seeing my wishes 
gratified & my interests subserved. I am glad to 
find that it caused him no pecuniary loss. The 
lots were all sold to persons of good standing; and 
for years the population of Boylston Place was 
very select. It has since then deteriorated. My 
school was so good a neighbor that many of the 
[52] * 


residents there were quite unaware that a large 
school of boys was daily held near them. One 
family lived for many months quite ignorant that 
a school was kept next door to them. The largest 
number I ever had there was fifty five. I was 
obliged to have more than one permanent assist¬ 
ant, beside teachers in French, Drawing, Penman¬ 
ship, &c. I had a janitor who occupied the base¬ 
ment of my house & two rooms in the attic, & who 
acted with his wife as housekeeper, attending the 
door, making fires, cleaning the rooms & doing 
all errands needful for the business of the school. 
They paid for their rooms with their services. 
The rooms were planned entirely with reference to 
the convenience of the pupils & the teachers. I 
recall them now with great satisfaction & feel that 
many spots there are consecrated by the associa¬ 
tion with them in my memory with the brilliant 
talents and delightful characters of lads I saw 
unfold there and ripen into youths fitted for the 
University. Certain places at the blackboards, 
which quite surrounded the hall, are at my mental 
bidding again filled with the beautiful presence of 
those who worked there and displayed their exact 
scholarship at those precise spots. And there was 
[53] 


one spot in that room which is to my remembrance 
an altar, on which yearly, after all the lads had 
left me with their adieus & kind wishes, some to 
go to college & some to enjoy their vacation, I 
knelt and asked a blessing on them all & forgive¬ 
ness for my short-coming in the year’s hard labor. 
It has passed into other hands & I have never had 
courage to enter it since I delivered it over to the 
purchaser. 


[ 54 ] 


My Dear Sir , I have learned with great regret 
your purpose of leaving the Latin School. Your 
personal influences have brought that important 
institution to an excellence it never had before & 
I have no belief it can maintain its degree of use¬ 
fulness when your personal influences are with¬ 
drawn from it. I regret your resignation as a 
publick misfortune and for my own children as 
their and my personal loss. You have done in 
your place much good, all that could be done; & 
all of it is to be extended through the career of 
your pupils not only for them but for those on 
whom they shall act. This makes for yourself a 
fitting reward & your own consciousness is neces¬ 
sarily & rightfully richer than the golden opinions 
of all the community. With much regard & a 
strong sense of personal obligation for the benefit 
derived from your performance of your official 
duties. 

I am very truly yrs. 

Edw. G. Loring. 
July ii, 1851. 


[ 55 ] 


[The Common-wealthy Boston, Tuesday, July 8, 1851.] 

CITY TEACHERS WITHIN THE LIMITS. 

The Mayor and Aldermen have concurred with 
the Common Council in an ordinance to the effect 
that the teachers of the public schools must hence¬ 
forward reside within the City bounds. 

With great respect for the wisdom of the city 
Fathers, we cannot think that they have signalized 
it in the present instance. 

The main argument for the rule we understand 
to be, that teachers should live in the midst of their 
pupils, in order to have better opportunities to 
watch them, and be acquainted with their parents. 
Practically, we suppose, this would not come to 
much, even if every teacher could be set down in 
the geographical centre of the dwellings of his 
pupils, as in the country they sometimes insist 
on doing with school houses. But if the object is 
desirable, the proposed provision for attaining it 
is incomplete. The rule ought to direct that 
the teachers of the schools for the children in 
Broad street and Ann street should live in those 
streets respectively. At present (with all defer¬ 
ence be it spoken) it is merely absurd. The 
teacher of a school on the edge of South Boston 
may not live in Dorchester within a stone’s throw 
of his school house, but he may live at the north 


[56] 


end of the island of East Boston, four miles off*, 
with a ferry and a bridge between. And by the 
same rule, the teacher in East Boston, if he has a 
quiet house in Chelsea, close by the “ noisy man¬ 
sion” where he is “skilled to rule,” must sell or let 
it, and be at liberty to take another, a Sabbath-day’s 
journey off, on the south side of the harbor. 

Another weighty reason which we hear given 
for the rule is, that they who receive the city’s 
money ought to pay city taxes, which is about as 
clear in sound and sense, as that “he who drives 
fat oxen should himself be fat.” If the city had 
an important case pending in court, we think they 
would not hesitate about feeing Mr. Webster or 
Mr. Dexter, notwithstanding those gentlemen pay 
their taxes in Marshfield and Beverly. Gener¬ 
ally speaking, we suppose that the teachers are not 
in such circumstances as greatly to enrich the city 
treasury from the revenue they might be made to 
yield. Nay, we are not without apprehension that 
this snatching for more taxes from them might 
prove a losing game, even for the ostensible object. 
We should be very glad to hear that Mr. Dixwell 
and Mr. Sherwin, for instance, are men of property. 
We know they deserve to be. But we would 
modestly commend the question to the financial 
wisdom of the city legislature, whether if these 
gentlemen were to be forced into town, their houses 


[ 57 ] 


in the country might not be taken by men of taste 
now resident in Boston, whom the assessors would 
miss still more. 

We have no interest in this matter, except as we 
have great pride in the good condition of the 
schools of Boston, a profound sense of their in¬ 
estimable value, and the most earnest desire to see 
them flourish. If a teacher finds that after a hard 
day’s work in one of the most fatiguing of all occu¬ 
pations his health and spirits are renovated by 
getting out of the. dust and noise into pure air and 
country quiet, and that he goes back fresher and 
brighter to the morrow’s task, it appears to us to be 
for the interest of his employers that he should not 
be prevented from doing so. If he can live at a 
lower rent in the country, and so make his moder¬ 
ate stipend go further for the support of his family, 
why not let him ? The saving is just as good as so 
much added to his salary; and if the city will not 
allow him to economize in this way, it would seem 
that it will either have to increase his pay or else 
put up with teachers of an inferior description to 
those who have been in its service heretofore. 
For, as things have been lately going on, it will 
soon be impossible for teachers to live in Boston 
except at rents quite disproportionate to their 
present income. 

The compensation paid to the teachers of our 
[58] 


youth is very small compared with the importance 
of their services, and every unnecessary restriction 
which goes to render their places less desirable is 
stupid and hurtful, as it inevitably tends to lessen 
the number of competent candidates, and causes 
the city, in the long run, to be less well served. 
With some opportunities for inquiring and judging, 
we suppose the public Latin School in Boston to be 
the best elementary classical school on this planet. 
Yet it is said that under the operation of this rule, 
it is about to lose its accomplished principal, Mr. 
Dixwell. We trust it will not prove so. It would 
be one of the most preposterous instances we have 
known of that economy which “ saves at the spigot 
and spends at the bung.” 

It is, we think, a little more than doubtful 
whether, under the general laws of the Common¬ 
wealth, the Mayor and Aldermen and Common 
Council of Boston can interfere with the dis¬ 
cretion of the School Committee in this matter. It 
seems, at all events, that by an amendment at a 
late stage of the proceedings, the School Com¬ 
mittee is allowed to dispense with the rule in in¬ 
dividual cases. If the worst comes to the worst, 
it is to be hoped the Committee will exercise that 
power very liberally. 


Cragie St. 

July 16, 1872. 

My dear Mr. Dixwell , 

Will you, who write such perfect notes, kindly 
pen one to yourself purporting to come from me, 
expressing in proper form my sense of your kind¬ 
ness & generosity. Were I speaking instead of 
writing I should probably say “thank you,” and trust 
to your knowledge of me to believe the warmth & 
sincerity of my gratitude. 

No one that has not tried Charles St. can realize 
what a paradise Boylston Place seems, so much so 
that I already feel weary of vacation and anxious 
to use my new quarters. 

Receive once more my sincere thanks for your 
uniform kindness, and believe me with hearty 
wishes for your prosperous voyage and unbroken 
enjoyment. 

Very truly yours, 

John P. Hopkinson. 


[60] 


[Unfinished List.] 


GRADUATES OF HARVARD & OF P. L. S. 
BOSTON. 


1842. 

J. C. Merrill 
Ed. Capen 
Dr. G. H. Gay 
E. B Otis 

1843 

Rev. O. B. Frothingham 
Rev. J. H. Means 
C. F. Adams 
T. B. Hall 

1844 

C. J. Capen 

T. E. Francis M.D. 

B. A. Gould, Mathema¬ 
tician 

Jonathan & Leverett Hunt 

G. F. Parkman 
Rev. R. P. Rogers 
Dr. D. D. Slade 
W. Tilton 

H. B. Wheelwright 


1845 

G. Bartlett 
T. D. Chamberlain 

E. R. Dexter 
S. F. Dunlap 
G. S. Emerson 

F. W. Greenwood 
L. Hayward 
F. Parker 
Dr. J. P. Reynolds 

1846 

E. Bangs 
W. D. Bliss 
Prof. F. J. Child 
D. S. Curtis 
Dr. C. D. Homans 
J. M. Parker 
Rev. W. L. Ropes 

1847 

Alex. Bliss 
J. B. Felton 
J. P. Gardner 
[61] 


H. L. Hallett 
Augustine Heard 
C. W. Homer 
C. G. Kendall 
Dr. B. S. Shaw 
G. Q. Thorndike 

1848 

T. H. Chandler D.M.D. 
Prof. J. P. Cooke 

E. Davenport 
J. A. Dugan 
Alex. Hale 

C. G. Loring 
J. A. D. Parker 
C. Smith Weyman 
Prof. E. J. Young 

1849 

F. B. Emerson 

G. A. Gardner 

F. A. Lane 

T. K. Lothrop 
Lem. Shaw 

G. S. Shaw 

1850 

Charles Hale 
Dr. G. Hay 
Dr. N. Hayward 


C. W. Little 
Augustus Lowell 
Rev. W. S. Parker 
Dr. H. B. Storer 
H. W. Suter 

Rev. J. H. Thayer S.T.D. 
Rev. L. G. Ware 
Dr. Jno. Ware 
H. J. Warner 
F. D. Williams 

1851 

L. H. Buckingham 
Arthur Dexter 

E. A. Flint 

Prof. H. W. Haynes 

F. W. Palfrey 
Dr. F. Winsor 

1852 

H. H. Coolidge 
Dr. G. E. Head 
W. S. Hooper 
E. E. Pratt 

Dr. Horace Richardson 
K. W. Sears 
Prof. Austin Stickney 
Gorham Thomas 
S. T. Thorndike 
Dr. Robt. Ware 
Sidney Willard 
[62] 


i853 

J. Q. Adams 
E. R. Andrews 
C. F. Blake 
G. H. Blanchard 
J. M. Brown 
J. D. Bryant 
Theo. Chase 
U. H. Crocker 
Prest. C. W. Eliot 
Rev. W. L. Gage 
C. H. Hurd 
Dr. J. H. Hutchins 
C. F. Livermore 

C. J. Paine 

Gen. J. C. Palfrey 

R. S. Rantoul 
W. H. Rowe 

S. S. Shaw 

D. H. Ward 
Rev. P. Williams 
A. D. Weld 


185+ 

E. W. Codman 
D. H. Coolidge 
Dr. Hall Curtis 


A. T. Gibbs 
R. C. Goodwin 
H. B. Hubbard 
Dr. B. J. Jeffries 
C. R. Lowell 
W. C. Paine 
Jas. Savage 
H. Van Brunt 

1855 

E. H. Abbot 
Rev. Phillips Brooks 
E. J. Brown 
G. G. Crocker 
Geo. Dexter 
E. A. Gibbens 
G. F. McLellan 
R. T. Paine 
E. S. Rand 
W. W. Richards 
J. B. Tileston 
T. P. Wainwright 
Henry Walker 
Joseph Willard 
Dr. Hasket Derby of Am¬ 
herst 

Dr. Dimmock of Williams 
Rev. Jas. Reed 


[63] 


[Unfinished List.] 


GRADUATES OF HARVARD & OF MY 
PRIVATE SCHOOL. 


1856 

Joseph W. Merriam 

1858 

Henry Adams 
Josiah Bradlee 
Geo. B. Chadwick 
Hollis Hunnewell 
Thatcher Maguon 
Dan. C. Payne 

1859 

Geo. B. Blake 
Wm. W. Newell 
C. S. Peirce 
W. S. Appleton 

1860 

C. H. Fiske 
F. W. Hunnewell 
J. W. Hunnewell 
J. T. Morse 
H. S. Russell 


1861 

H. P. Bowditch 
S. F. Emmons 
W. H. Forbes 
O. W. Holmes 
J. Kent Stone 
J. H. Wales 
F. Weld 

1862 

Arthur Amory 
H. P. Quincy 

1863 

Robt. Amory 
Nathan Appleton 
E. D. Boit 
C. P. Bowditch 
Jno. M. Brown 

E. S. Grew 
Chas. C. Jackson 
Arthur Lawrence 

F. C. Loring 

[64] 


A. L. Mason 
J. C. Warren 

1864 

Richard Codman 
C. C. Read 
W. L. Richardson 

1865 

J. R. Chadwick 
Alfred Greenough 
P. T. Jackson 
R. R. Newell 
C. P. Putnam 
C. A. Rand 

1866 

Thos. Dwight 
R. C. Greenleaf 
J. J. Loud 
C. McBurney 
H. C. Mayer 
R. S. Peabody 

1867 

W. E. Ellison 
E. J. Holmes 
C. L. Jackson 
Arthur Jones 


F. H. Lincoln 

E. J. Lowell 
Bellamy Storer 
Fred Tudor 

1868 

R. A. Boit 

F. C. Shattuck 

1869 

Ed. Bowditch 
Russel Gray 
J. W. McBurney 
F. G. Peabody 
W. E. Sparks 

R. C. Watson 

1870 

J. Dixwell 
A. A. Lawrence 
W. S. Scudder 

S. W. R. Thayer 
W. F. Wharton 
Roger Wolcott 

1871 

W. S. Bigelow 
E. Burgess 
W. E. C. Eustis 
H. C. Lodge 


G. R. Minot 
N. G. Read 
Arthur Rotch 
Nat. Thayer 
Robert Jones 

1872 

Arthur Burgess 
Walter Burgess 
C. C. Felton 
S. E. Guild 
W. C. Loring 
F. M. Weld 

1873 

Jno. Bryant 
E. R. Wharton 


1874 

F. E. Babcock 
W. A. Burnham 
A. L. Devens 
Jas. Dwight 
Jas. Lawrence 
J. J. Minot 
A. L. Rives 
D. Sears 

Geo. Wigglesworth 

1875 

V. Y. Bowditch 
Hemmenway (Gus) 
F. Sears 
F. Shaw 


[ 66 ] 


1872. 


Aug. 

10 

Arrived Queenstown went to Cork 


12 

Killarney Lakes 


14 

Dublin 


15 

Belfast & Portrush 


16 

Giants Causeway 


17 

Dublin 


19 

Chester 


23 

Warwick 28 Stratford on Avon 


30 

Oxford 

Sept. 

7 

London 25 Winchester 26 Salisbury &c 


27 

Ventnor (Wight) 

Oct. 

22 

Canterbury 23 Dover 24 Broome Hall 


25 

Paris 

Dec. 

20 

Marseilles 30, To Nice 



1873- 

Jan. 

13 

Over Corniche Road to San Remo 

H 

“ Alassio 


15 

“ Savona 


16 

“ Genoa 


25 

By steam to Leghorn 


27 

Pisa 


28 

To Naples by rail 


29 

Arrived at Naples 


3 1 

Herculaneum & St. Sebastiano 

Feb. 

8 

Pompeii 


10 

<( 


[ 67 ] 


12 


Baiae & Puteoli 

19 Rome 

Apr. 5 Florence 

21 Bologna 

24 Venice 

May 5 Verona 

6 Milan 9, Como 10 Bellaggio 

14 Lugano 16 Arona 19 Novara & Turin 

20 Chambery 21 Geneva 

June 2 Chamounix 5th Martigny by Tete Noire 
6 Lausanne 9 Friburg 10 Berne 


June 11 
21 
2 7 

July 1 

4 

9 

11 

16 

Aug. 13 
29 

Sept. 1 

3 

6 

9 

11 

13 

16 


June 1873. 

Interlaken 20 Giesbach 

Lucerne by Brunig Pass 

Zurich 28 Schaffhausen 

Strasburg 2 Basle 3 Baden Baden 

Heidelberg 7 Nuremberg 

Frankfort 10 Mayence & Coblenz 

Cologne 12 Brussels 

Antwerp 17 Paris 

London 28 Rugby 

Coventry 30 Litchfield & Rowsley 

Matlock 2 Chatsworth & Haddon 

Manchester & Preston 4 Windermere 

Keswick 8 Derwent & Penrith 

Carlisle 10 Mauchline & Ayer 

Glasgow 12 Balloch 

Loch Lomond & Katrine, Trossachs 

Callender & Dumblane 


[ 68 ] 


Sept. 17 
25 

27 

28 
3 ° 

Oct. 1 

2 

3 
6 

16 


Edinburgh 24 Visited Sterling 
Hawthornden & Roslin 
Melrose, Abbo sford & Dryburgh 
Melrose 29 Durham 

Ripon & Fountains Abbey 
York & Doncaster 
Lincoln & Boston 
Peterboro & Cambridge 
London 9 Liverpool 

Embarked for America 


[69] 





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